


Living in Reverse

by madartiste



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Discovering Family Roots, Gen, Grieving, Loss, Rated for casual swearing, The gals are looking out for Nero
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:53:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27065197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madartiste/pseuds/madartiste
Summary: Nero, Nico, Lady, and Trish visit the Spardas' house in Red Grave.  Nero finally has a chance to get to know something of his family history and thinks about how they lost what he eventually gained.
Relationships: Dante & Nero & Vergil (Devil May Cry), Eva/Sparda (Devil May Cry), Kyrie/Nero (Devil May Cry), Nero & Nico (Devil May Cry), Nero & Trish & Lady
Comments: 14
Kudos: 104





	Living in Reverse

**Author's Note:**

> Not much to say about this one other than I can't imagine Nero wouldn't want to see the house where Dante and Vergil were born after V pointed it out to him. Nero suddenly being the only dude left in the group of active characters was kind of fun too, and he should definitely have a chance to bond with Trish and Lady while Dante and Vergil are off in hell. I think all the women being protective of him would be very sweet.
> 
> I haven't read "Visions of V" yet because I had thought it was going to be a short manga (I was wrong!), and I wanted to read the whole thing at once, so if my description of the house doesn't follow what's shown there, just consider this a slight AU or something.
> 
> Also, I know it's not really canon, but I can't get over the concept of Eva being an Umbra Witch, though it's only slightly implied here. I have a head-canon that Sparda was a shutterbug, so I figured I'd indulge that too.

"We're here!" Nico called.

For once she didn't take her eyes off the road, and Nero was grateful. The ground was so jacked up that it'd be easy to do some serious damage to the van if they weren't careful. He stared out the windshield at the nearly demolished mansion, trying to picture what it must've looked like once upon a time.

What kind of place was Dante and Vergil's childhood home? A trill of anticipation sped up his heart, just a little.

"Can't believe it's still standing," Lady said from the back. "It's a wreck and probably was even before that tree. You really think we'll find anything?"

"It's worth a look," Nero said. He tried hard not to fidget when Nico pulled the van to a stop, but Trish's hand on his shoulder settled him. She smiled down from where she leaned against the back of his seat.

"I'm sure we'll find something," she said warmly.

Being consoled by a demon was going to take some getting used to, but Nero was surprised at how friendly and open Trish could be. Having Dante's friends with him was going to make this a lot easier.

"Let's get the lead out," Nero declared, climbing out of the van.

The record summer heatwave combined with all the damage done to the area by the Qliphoth left it a dusty, scraggly mess. Broken rocks jutted up out of dull yellow grass, and barren trees barely provided any shade from the late-July sun. Not exactly the most pleasant setting, but he wasn't here to sight-see anyway. 

Nero couldn't stop smiling as he walked toward the destroyed entry way. There was something soothing about the house despite the shape it was in. Dust motes danced joyfully in the beams of bright light pouring in from broken windows, and even with the peeling paint, rotting wood, and faded drapery, this place seemed like a wonderful home.

Dante and Vergil must've been really happy here. Nero hoped he could find something inside to give them a piece of that back. When they finally returned, of course. Because they would. Someday, they would come back to--

Just before he passed under the wrecked threshold, Nero realized the others had stopped following him, and he turned to look at them. "What's the hold up?"

"You kidding?" Nico asked. She had her arms wrapped tight around her middle. "This place is so  _ creepy _ ."

"Yeah," Lady muttered next to her, fingers gripping tight at her forearm. "There can't be anything left inside here that's worth our time."

Nero blinked at them. They'd all been gung-ho about the idea of salvaging what they could from the estate on the way over here. Nico especially couldn't wait to dig through Dante's former home, and Lady wasn't afraid of  _ anything _ , so why were they backing off now?

"C'mon, you guys," he sighed. "It's just an old house. What's the big deal?"

Nico made a face at him. "If it's no big deal, then why are  _ you _ not going in?"

He rolled his eyes and took an exaggerated step backwards so he was truly inside. And now that he was, he was surprised by the pleasant ambient temperature, almost like a gentle breeze had picked up to keep things cool enough that his jacket wasn't quite so warm.

"Fine," Nico huffed, but she didn't come any closer. "This place is still giving me the heebie jeebies."

"I just don't feel like we should bother. Anything that was in there has to be ruined by now," Lady chimed in.

Nero rubbed at his forehead. What the hell was their problem? This place was the opposite of creepy. In fact, it was downright charming, and he just couldn't understand what was bothering them.

"Oh, I see," Trish said, getting everyone's undivided attention. "There are wards all over this place. That's why you're both so jittery, and why I," she held her hand up toward the building and dark, angry sparks danced close to her fingers, "can't get in without some serious risk."

"Wait, hold on." Nero glanced behind him and then down at his feet. He was well within the boundaries of the house. "Why am  _ I _ not…?"

Trish pointed at the cracked foundation visible where the flooring had been ripped up. Runes pressed into the concrete glowed faintly, and Nero wondered how he could have missed that. "Because you belong here," Trish said. "You're part of the bloodline of the person who cast the spells."

"Cool!" A grin split Nico's face, and she started forward to inspect the runes only to draw up short. "Wow, that is some potent stuff. It's making my skin crawl just to get this close."

"I have to admit, I'm surprised that Mundus' minions were able to breach the barrier if it's this strong even after so much time has passed," Trish mused. "Then again, I remember how  _ persuasive _ he can be, so they were probably desperate to carry out their orders. This must've been what kept the looters away afterward."

"So, what do we do? Does Nero drag everything out here, or is there a way around this?" Lady asked.

Trish was thoughtful, chin cupped in her slender hand. "I think… we just need an invitation."

All three women looked at Nero expectantly, and he threw his hands out to his sides. "Fine, whatever. I invite you into the house. Get inside, will ya?"

Nico's eyes went wide, and she gave a full body shudder. "Whoa, that is funky! It's like night and day. Feels like my home during the holidays or something."

"Huh," Lady said, eyebrows raised. "Yeah, I feel it too. Everything's suddenly so welcoming."

"Great, can we get on with this now?" Nero turned his back to them, impatient to be inside, to see the place where his family came from. Some part of him knew his anxiousness wasn't quite natural, but it didn't feel  _ dangerous _ either. "Let's take a quick look around and grab anything that--"

His words dried up after a few more steps, and his feet dragged to a halt. Right there in the entrance, hanging high on the wall, was a portrait scorched by fire. Four people stared back at him. Only Eva's face was fully unobscured, but Nero could pick out Dante and Vergil easily, which meant the guy with the crazy hair had to be Sparda. It was hard to pull his eyes away.

"Would you like some help getting that down?"

Nero flinched at the sound of Trish's voice right next to him. She tilted her head and studied his face but didn't comment on his reaction.

"It's a little beat up, but maybe a restorer could fix it," Nico said. "I know a guy. Bet he would take a look at it for us."

"Thanks. That'd be great," Nero said sincerely. He was honestly touched by how quickly the women had volunteered to help him. From the moment he mentioned he wanted to come here, all three had insisted on tagging along. They gave different reasons, of course -- Trish said she was curious, Lady claimed they'd get killed without her, and Nico flat out told him she wasn't going to let her partner do something like this alone -- but he appreciated it all the same.

Lady jerked her thumb toward one of the side halls. "I'll go see if I can find a ladder or something so we can reach it."

"I think I got this," Nero told her, moving forward with a bit of trepidation. He still wasn't used to displaying his new devil powers yet, but the blue arms swirled into existence with a mere thought. He set his clawed hands against the wooden frame, and it felt brittle under the phantom fingers. With as much caution and control as he could muster, Nero lifted it from the wall and set it down in front of them.

"Well, that's useful. I'll remember you next time I have to redecorate my place," Lady joked. "We should split up and check the rest of the house to see what else is here. I can take the first floor."

"I'll take upstairs," Nico volunteered. "Nero can have the basement."

Nero scowled at her, arms crossed and leaning back on his heels. "Hey, don't I get a say in this? Why are you sending me to the basement?"

"Because that's where shit always goes down in horror movies, and I don't wanna get mauled by some monster," Nico said as if it should be obvious.

Sighing loudly, Nero knew there wasn't much point in trying to fight it. Especially when she kinda had a point. "Fine, whatever.  _ I'll _ go get eaten by a demon, then."

Trish laughed and lay a consoling hand on his shoulder. "Come on, I'll go with you. Maybe we'll get lucky and there  _ will _ be something fun down there."

They split up to search their areas, and Nero had to check a few doors before he found one that led down. The two hall closets he poked his head into first were full of decomposing coats and long expired cleaning supplies, but he figured Lady could sift through that since the first floor was her domain. He was quickly reminded of a problem with basements, though.

"No lights," he said when he flipped the switch in the stairwell a few times to no effect. Not that he'd expected electricity in a long abandoned building, but one could always hope. "Good thing Kyrie reminded me to bring a flashlight."

The bright, LED-driven beam showed off the stairs well enough for them to descend safely, and he was pleased to find the wood risers were still sturdy enough to take their weight. When they hit the bottom, he paused to swing the light around. It was an endless void stretching far past the end of his beam, huge space sparsely populated with boxes and old furniture. "This… is a little creepy," he admitted.

"I'll start at the other end," Trish said, and she slipped past him. "The dark doesn't really bother me."

"Great. I'll just go check that box over there..." Nero pried open the crumbling cardboard tentatively. "Books. Lots of books," he called to Trish.

"I've got something that looks like laboratory equipment," she called back. "Wait, it's an alchemy set."

His eyebrows rose. "Alchemy? Really? That might be useful, I guess." He peered into the next row of boxes and found they were also filled with books. It made him think back to the one sitting on the dashboard of the van, still only half read as he tried to digest all of Blake's poetry. "Most of these are in pretty good shape. We should see how many we can salvage," he said.

"Same thing over here," Trish replied. He heard the scrape of disintegrating cardboard from her shuffling through the contents. "They had enough to start a library, that's for sure. If nothing else, some of these will fetch a good price."

Nero made a face and contemplated carrying all these up the stairs. Even filled with books, he could probably cart a few up at a time with his extra demon arms, but it would be slow going since the boxes were falling apart. They might need to find something else to pack the books in.

"Hey, Nero," Trish said, and he turned to where her voice drifted out of the darkness.

"Yeah?"

"How soon are you and Kyrie planning on having kids?"

He choked, face immediately getting hot. "W-what? Why the hell would you ask that?!"

Her chuckle didn't make him any less embarrassed. "Because I just found two very fancy antique cribs, and they're in perfect condition."

"Jeez," he said, swiping his hand down his face and heading over to her. "Why are you people like this?"

The light showed off Trish's amusement a bit too well for his taste. "Because you react like that. It's cute."

"I'm not cute," he muttered and didn't appreciate the indulgent look she gave him that plainly said she disagreed. "Whatever."

Nero directed his attention to the cribs instead, noting the expensive wood and expert craftsmanship. Beautiful details were carved into the frames in almost alien patterns, and they were coated with thin, bright paints. It was lovely and strange and boldly dared his brain to make sense of the markings.

"I guess they started on the red and blue color scheme early," Trish said.

"I guess so…" The mattresses were probably a lost cause, but Nero couldn't even stomach the thought of discarding the cribs themselves. Everywhere he looked he saw a new detail. It was clear just how much attention and care went into making these.

And just how much Eva and Sparda loved and wanted their sons.

Nero cleared his throat. "Did you find anything besides books, the alchemy gear, and these?"

"No, but everything is in surprisingly good shape for being decades old. Being sealed up in this cool basement probably helped to preserve them."

Nero rubbed the back of his head and glanced over his shoulder at the stairs. "We'll have to figure out how to get these upstairs, but… Wait." He grinned at the demoness. "You've got super strength. I'll just have to put you to work."

"This is revenge for what I said earlier, isn't it."

Trish didn't seem very put out, but she still crossed her arms and made a show of it when they started negotiating the actual logistics. Having three sets of inhumanly strong arms made short work of most of the basement's contents, and the cribs proved to be difficult only because of the tight spacing of the stairs.

"So, you and Kyrie got something you need to tell me?" Nico snickered when Nero put the second crib down.

"Yeah, we do," he shot back. "Fuck off."

"Kyrie definitely wouldn't say that."

Nero couldn't even argue with that one, but he glared at Trish when she giggled at the sappy look that swept over his face at the mention of his amazing girlfriend.

Nico lay her armful of small boxes on the ground and sat cross legged next to them. "Found these in the back of the master bedroom closet on the top shelf. Gotta be something good."

"Why do you say that?" Nero asked, leaning against the edge of the blue crib.

"Duh. That's where adults always keep the good shit." She popped the cover off the first box and started pawing at what was inside. Nero frowned when she suddenly stopped. "Oh. Uh. I think maybe  _ you _ should go through this."

Curious, and maybe a little concerned by the melancholy look on his normally boisterous partner's face, Nero headed over and crouched down to see what she was holding. She flipped the photograph around to face him, and Nero understood what she meant.

A blonde woman sat in tall grass with her back to the camera, her red shawl faded to a dull pink by time's effects on the print. Beyond her, two pale-haired young boys ran through the meadow not far from the beautiful house that now lay in ruins, their joy obvious in their frozen poses, two brothers frolicking in safety and kinship. It was the kind of prosaic image that belonged in a book or on a postcard.

Nero swallowed hard, and his hand hovered uncertainly. Some part of him felt like even touching it would taint the happiness he saw. Without a word, Nico placed the box in front of him and set the photograph inside, her silent encouragement enough to break through his hesitation.

There were tons of pictures, every box stuffed full of them, and Nero quickly lost himself in the story they told. Sparda and Eva holding their newborn sons, the Legendary Dark Knight awestruck and overwhelmed by his delight. Dante, marked by a bright red onesie, flopped over an annoyed infant Vergil while they crawled on the floor. A sopping wet Eva trying to bathe her twin boys while shooting a frustrated look at whoever was holding the camera.

It was like a flipbook of his family, watching Dante and Vergil grow and change as he went through the piles of photographs. He could see just how close the two were even if they seemed to squabble as often as they played. Nero didn't realize he was smiling until his face started to hurt.

But he noticed fewer images with Eva in them, and none with Sparda, halfway through the third box. The last one with their father showed both boys posed up against the giant of a man and grinning brightly. They each clutched familiar swords that were far too big for either of them. Sparda's face was somehow pleased and somber at the same time.

Nero flipped it over and saw ' _ Dante & Vergil, 6th Birthday _ ' scrawled on the back in a tight, precise script.

He dug through the next box feeling an anxious tug in his gut. No Eva at all, she had to be the one taking the pictures now, and the photos were taken with growing frequency. Dante swinging a wooden sword, Vergil tucked up against a tree while absorbed in a book, the brothers covered in grass and dirt and bruises and looking thoroughly chastised. Life had gone on even after Sparda left. Until it didn't.

The last picture, tucked down in the bottom, was the twins blowing out the candles on a chocolate birthday cake, heavy looking pendants around their necks. ' _ Dante & Vergil, 8th birthday _ .'

Nero stared at it for a long time. He tried to pick apart what he was feeling. These emotions weren't what he expected, that's for sure.

"You okay?" Nico asked quietly.

"Yeah… Yeah, I'm fine." Nero tossed the picture back in the box and put the cover on. These were definitely coming back. "It just caught me off guard, I guess."

She examined his face and gave him a small, understanding smile. "They sure did look happy, right?"

"I just--" Nero cut himself off, but Nico waited patiently while he got his thoughts together. "They were eight when they lost their family," he said slowly.

"Looks like," Nico agreed.

He wondered if he should just keep his mouth shut, but Nero wasn't sure he could at this point. "I was eight when Kyrie and Credo's parents started fostering me. It's like… they lost everything at the same age I gained it."

Nico's face softened. "It's not your fault."

"I know that!" he snapped.

"Do you?"

And there it was. The emotion that had caught him so badly by surprise: guilt.

Logically, their loss had nothing to do with his good fortune, but that didn't stop the nagging voice in the back of his head. It sounded too much like the one that always said he didn't deserve a family in the first place. The same one that whispered  _ he _ was the reason Kyrie's parents and Credo died.

"Didn't find much else on the first floor," Lady called out. To her credit, there was only a small hitch in her step when she came into the foyer and saw the downcast expressions on Nero and Nico. "But I figured you might want these recipe books."

"Y-yeah, thanks." Nero coughed to clear his tight throat and accepted the spiral bound books. "Kyrie can take a look when we get back," he muttered, flipping through. He paused partway and noted some of the recipes were color coded. Red and blue. Of course.

"Damn. Your granny was organized," Nico said, peering over his shoulder.

Lady pointed to the cribs. "With those two monsters for kids? She probably had to be. I bet they didn't even like the same foods just to spite each other."

"You'd think that, but not really," Nero said, thumbing through the pages. The ones marked as favorites were pretty distinct -- Dante loved greasy, heavy comfort food, Vergil preferred lighter options -- but most of the recipes told a story of two brothers with remarkably similar tastes. Only a very few of the absolute favorites had notes that indicated which ones were likely to kick off a fight between the two.

"They both have a sweet tooth, though," Nero remarked. He indicated the robust dessert section labeled entirely in purple.

"That sounds right," Lady laughed. "Dante practically lives off those strawberry sundaes when he can manage it."

A thought occurred to him, and Nero wondered how hard it would be to get Kyrie to cook them welcome home dinners from the books. Probably not difficult at all, considering Kyrie's love of feeding people and giving them a 'taste of home.' 

He forced away the nasty little notion that he might never get the chance to try it because Dante and Vergil didn't care that he had been left behind and would never return. There was no point in listening to that part of himself.

"I think this is the last of it worth taking back," Trish said, tapping her way down the stairs. Nero realized he'd completely lost track of her in his distraction and not noticed she wasn't in the room anymore. 

"I thought I checked everything up there!" Nico exclaimed at the ornate wood box the demoness was carrying.

Trish gave a little shrug and brought the box over to Nero. "It was just a feeling. I found this under the floorboards in the master bedroom."

Their assumption that he should be the one to appraise these things was starting to make him uncomfortable, but he accepted the box when Trish handed it to him. Nero took a moment to inspect it, noticing how similar the carvings on the surface were to the ones on the cribs. It had a shiny black lacquer that was only dulled a little on the very edges, and flaking gold paint picked out certain details on the lid to make a very elegant container. Even the brass hinges and catches were in good shape.

"Well? Open it up!" Nico urged. "Let's see what's inside."

"Alright, alright," Nero said. He flipped open the catches and lifted the lid. And then stared.

So did the three women peering at the box in his lap.

"Holy shit!" Nico cried. "That's like a freakin' treasure chest!"

"Seriously," Lady breathed. "That has to be worth a fortune."

The inside gleamed with gold, platinum, diamonds, rubies, sapphires, and pearls. Everything sparkled in the fading light that streamed through broken windows. Nero had never seen so much valuable jewelry other than in the glass displays of a store that was too pricey for him to even set foot into. It was incredible.

Tentatively, he reached in and plucked out a ring that caught his eye. Bright gold with a ruby and sapphire set into a twisting spiral and two smaller diamonds nestled next to them. Engraved on the inside of the band were the words:  _ Eva, light of my very long life. _

"Kyrie's a lucky girl," Trish said amusedly over his shoulder, and Nero frowned.

"These aren't mine to give away," Nero pointed out, setting the ring back and forcefully reseating the lid. "Dante and Vergil can figure out what they want to do with all this. We'll stash it in the attic at the shop for when they get back."

He saw the tolerant look the women exchanged but chose to ignore it. There was too much else swirling around in his brain for him to waste time on that, and he was grateful for the physical labor that loading everything into the van required. Each time he passed the house's threshold toward the vehicle, Nero felt a sorrowful tug on something inside him, and each time he walked back in was a wash of welcoming warmth.

All of this was trying to unearth painful things he'd put to rest years ago. Nero hated that part.

"That's the last of it," Lady said, a little out of breath. "I'm impressed we got everything crammed in here, but it'll be a tight squeeze for us in the back."

"You and I can find some alternate transportation once we're out of Red Grave," Trish suggested.

"I'll take the back of the van on the way out," Nero said. Because there was no way he was going to make both guests take the worst seats. "You three figure out who'll sit where. I wanna do one last look around."

Another shared look passed between them, and Nero spun on his heel. So what if he wanted to see the whole house? He'd been stuck in the basement and the foyer the whole time. Wasn't it normal for him to be curious? And, yeah,  _ maybe _ he wanted the chance to tour it on his own, but that was understandable too. Wasn't it?

He held his head up as he crossed back over the cordial doorstep. He'd already seen enough of the entryway, though he did pause at the curiously preserved white wardrobe on his left and headed up the stairs. If he was being honest, there was one place that interested him more than any other, but he poked his head into the other rooms first.

One was set up to be a guest room, devoid of anything distinctive but comfortable and classy. Further down the hall was a bathroom that was a wreck. Probably the pipes had frozen and burst at some point, and the floor looked like it might cave in soon. The next had to be the master bedroom, and Nero took a few steps inside.

The decor was polished and refined and somehow still shining with personality even if it had decayed from neglect. An enormous canopy bed was centered against the far part of the room, sheets rumpled and dry rotted, lacy privacy curtains eaten through by pests. Charred paintings of bizarre but cheerful landscapes hung crooked on the walls or lay on the floor in smashed frames. One section of wall was taken up by a collage of photographs, destroyed by the water that had seeped down through the roof so he couldn't even tell what they'd been pictures of.

Almost every drawer and cabinet was open from Nico's searching, and Nero could see the long, once elegant dresses and moldered velvet jackets hanging in the closet. The section of the floor Trish had pulled up to find the jewelry box yawned dark and mournful. Having everything laid bare to his eyes, like he was a scavenger picking through a corpse, unsettled Nero somehow. 

There was something so tranquil about this space. Something that spoke about the warmth of the people who had occupied it all those years ago. Something that didn't deserve to be disturbed. Quietly, Nero shut everything back up as best he could before moving on.

He glanced into two more sparse but lovely guest rooms before he found what he was looking for. Nero stopped in the doorway.

Two beds, one pushed up against each side wall. A pair of white painted dressers stained by smoke. Bookshelves next to the blue bed, a rack full of broken wooden swords beside the red one. It wasn't hard to guess exactly who had lived here.

Crossing the boundary into this room felt less invasive and voyeuristic than with the master suite. Instead, a fondness settled into him. Two brothers, sharing a room, almost certainly voluntarily considering the number of guest rooms in the house, their own space clearly demarcated but bleeding over enough to indicate mutual affection. A wooden sword, shaped like a katana, lay on top of the shelf full of rotting books, and a small pile of thick volumes were half tucked under the bed with the washed-out red bed sheets.

There was a time when the twins were close, before loss and fear and a senseless need for power drove a wedge between them. Before they'd stopped remembering how much they cared about one another. Before they'd been stripped of everything that Nero had been given at the same age.

It was strange, but Nero found himself grieving for a family that was broken long before he was born. Something wonderful and unique shattered by the bitter hatred and cruelty of a terrible enemy. Lost forever.

Or not forever, exactly. Nero smiled. Maybe the family wasn't the same as it had been, but he couldn't deny the swell of pride from knowing he'd helped, even if just a little, to start knitting the brothers back together. With a bit of time, and probably a few smacks upside the head, Dante and Vergil could repair their relationship and learn to be a family again with Nero.

If they ever came back.

He sighed. No. He wasn't going down that track.

Nero was being ridiculously sappy to think like that anyway, and he had no desire to pin his hopes on people that he, if he was being honest with himself, didn't really know all that well. Kyrie and Nico and the kids were more than enough of a family for him; asking for more would be greedy. If the rest happened someday, then it would. If not, it wouldn't.

That's just how things were.

He bent down and tugged the least disintegrated of the books from under Dante's bed and crossed the room to pick up the wooden katana. It was just a whim, but he still wanted to bring a piece of their own space back for them, maybe a gentle reminder of how things once were. However things shook out in the end, at least he'd given it his best shot.

The light was almost completely gone now, and the stairs groaned plaintively under his heavy boots when he trudged back down to the first floor. He took a moment to bask in the comforting stillness now that he was the only one inside, surprised yet again by just how much this place soothed him. Nero wondered if all the artifacts they'd collected could possibly hold the same sense of safety and wistful contentment that the building itself did. He wouldn't mind coming back here someday if anything was still standing, but for now it was time to go, and he hurried past the threshold in too quick steps.

An unpleasant tingling sensation swept over him, like he was leaving behind a piece of his soul. A sorrowful call of this empty home that had gotten to him more than he would have ever imagined. It reminded him of when he'd been trapped inside the Savior and felt Yamato's lonely pull. 

Which was stupid, he scolded himself. This wasn't his house, had never been his life. It was only the remnants of a splinted history that belonged to people who had left him behind. He paused and looked back at the gouged and gaping space that was once the front entrance and scrubbed a hand through his short hair in frustration.

When Dante and Vergil got back, Nero was going to have a lot to say to them, and those two assholes would just have to sit and listen for once. No more running for any of them.

He turned away and pulled open the side door of the van.

"You good?" Nico asked the second he set foot inside.

"Yeah, fine," he said, trying not to clip his words too much and squeezing into a small empty spot between some boxes and an antique gramophone.

Lady was squashed into what little unoccupied area there was on the couch across from him. She gave him a sad smile that seemed out of place for her usually no-nonsense attitude. "Found a few extra things?" she asked, gesturing to the book and sword.

"Uh, yeah. Just thought these looked interesting," he said and hastily set them aside. He hadn't even realized he'd been clutching them so hard until he let go and felt the ache in his fingers.

Nero could see Nico watching him in the rearview mirror, but his partner plastered a big grin on her face. "Alright, let's get this show back on the road." 

The van's engine growled to life, and Nico spun the steering wheel to turn them around. Buckled, uneven ground rocked them, crunching under the hefty tires as they went. Nero couldn't resist one last look out of the rear window at the house. He watched it until it disappeared from view.

This had never been his home, but that didn't mean he needed to forget it. There was something to be said about shared memories, and when Dante and Vergil got back, because they  _ would,  _ maybe they'd share a few more with him.


End file.
